Broken Connection
by Whatiflove16
Summary: He left and this time she followed, she always did. A dance, a kiss, a song speaking their unspoken words. A one shot that WILL have a sequel, promise. This is the Sherlolly theme. ATTENTION CHAPTER 1 OF IT'S NEVER JUST A COINCEDENCE IS NOW POSTED!


**Here's a slightly more depressing ending to "The Sign of Three" it was originally going to be fluff and all that romantic shit but my heart's a broken one sooo….**

* * *

Say Something

Molly followed, but then again she always did. A few moments after Sherlock retreated from the dance floor Molly quietly excused herself from the festivities. When Tom turned, concerned about her sudden change in demeanor she assured him that she just needed some air. A quick peck on the cheek was all Molly gave him before she made her way out of the flashy room. She swiftly exited the building and stood still on the front steps watching Sherlock who at the moment had his back towards her, hands in his pockets. She began her slow descent down the stone so as not to disturb him.

"If you're going to sneak up on me", came his half amused voice,"you had better take off those shoes."

Molly blushed and stopped. She unceremoniously removed her heels and tossed them onto the path to her left. Sherlock turned his head slightly with a raised eyebrow at the abandoned foot wear. Then he moved some more and looked at Molly.

"I wasn't serious."

"I know, but they were hurting me."

"I could tell."

Molly smiled faintly."I know you could."

Sherlock turned fully around so they both faced each other square on. They've had one of these conversations before, and Sherlock was gearing up for another one.

"Shouldn't you be in there?"

"Shouldn't you?", she countered softly Sherlock didn't respond. Molly could see his mind searching for an answer and failing. Feeling brave she closed the distance between them and touched his arm. Sherlock jumped a bit and looked at her, causing her to pull back.

"Dancing isn't really my area."Molly swallowed. She knew what he was trying to do and she wasn't going to let him oppress her. The look of surprise was evident on his face when she responded.

"Liar." She paused "You didn't have a partner." She stated it like a fact, a sad fact. Sherlock heard it in her voice and mistook it as pity.

"None of those bridesmaids were adequate enough. They were all horrendous."

Molly smiled slowly."That's because that isn't dancing it's more like…"

"Jumping", he finished with a smirk and slightly wistful look at the building. The music was loud, and the pair could hear it's constant beat outside.

"Can you dance?"

"Of course I can. I wrote the waltz for John and Mary. I know the steps. It's all about knowing your timing, foot work, and…"

"Feeling."

Sherlock stared down on her. His brows furrowed in confusion."Sorry, did you just say feeling?"

"Yes", came the whisper.

"What does feeling", he asked slowly,"have to do with it?"

"Everything", she answered."Music allows us to connect with ourselves like not other force. I've always believed that dancing, especially with another can show you each other's souls. My father used to say that the windows to the soul are most open to another if they connect through dance. It's how my parents met. By accident they waltzed together and the music enveloped them and they were lost with each other in the notes. The way they understood in that moment cemented their bond forever."

Molly stood facing the fountain now. She grabbed the engagement ring between her fingers and began playing with it. She sat down and looked at her reflection. Shouldn't she be happier? The eyes that mirrored her own were not the ones of a giddy woman in love. She didn't even look happy.

"Of course there are other ways to feel that with someone, but if you don't then what? It would have all been for nothing. You won't really be happy and years later you'll sit back and regret the choice hastily made. You'll hate yourself for not being braver." She turned her body slightly and looked at Sherlock, eyes shining."I'm sorry. The point is you've never truly danced unless you've felt something, anything. Whether it be friendship, desire, or just love for the music."

Molly turned to look at the water again. Sherlock was oddly quiet. She wiped her eyes a bit and turned around to meet Sherlock's outstretched hand. His eyes appeared thoughtful though his expression was serious.

"Show me."

Molly was about to point out that the DJ wasn't exactly playing a slow song when the beginning of a classical piece floated outside. She refocused on his hand and obliged herself to the dance by daintily placing her hand in his. He pulled her carefully up and wrapped the other hand around her waist while she took her own and placed it on his shoulder. Then they began to dance. Slowly the couple moved around the fountain. Molly learned her head on his shoulder and he spoke.

"Why did you come out here? You were dancing with Tom when I left."

"I saw you." Molly pulled back and Sherlock unconsciously dipped her before resuming their circle.

"So did everyone else", he replied. He looked down at her quizzically.

Molly smiled softly at that."No they didn't.  
You looked sad because you thought no one was watching."

"But you were."

"Yes. I always see you."

"And I you. What should we deduce if that?", he asked perplexed. Molly knew the answer, but she was too afraid of the rejection, so instead she said.

"You tell me."

They both fell silent. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and the pair danced and I mean really danced. They moved against each other gracefully with matching steps like the whole routine had been planned. Round and round the fountain Molly and Sherlock twirled under the stars. The dance ended and they pulled away breathless with glazed eyes. Molly was the first to regain her senses and she immediately found herself playing self consciously with her dress. Sherlock noticed this and said in his deep baritone voice.

"Thank you Molly Hooper."

Molly looked up sharply and found Sherlock incredibly close to her. Her breaths became shallow and he moved closer so that their bodies were touching. Mere inches separated the two's lips from each other now. Both parties in this closeness noticed the other's pupils dilated. Molly tilted her head and Sherlock swiftly captured her lips with his own. They clung to each other, trying to get closer if it were even possible. Sherlock asked for entrance to her mouth and Molly obliged, hungrily. Passion radiated from them like the aftermath of an earthquake. At last, for a breath, they were wretched from each other. Molly bit back a laugh. How strange to have come out here for air only to have it sucked away.

Even Sherlock in his own way looked amused at the situation and dramatic turn of events. He looked down on her with a thoughtful expression on his face. Leaning down he whispered seductively into her ear.

"You know this is just like one of those rubbish romance novels Mary makes John read. The ignorant man realizes his true feelings for the heroine. It is too late though, for she is betrothed to another suitor. The man thinks it's over until they meet again at a ball."

Sherlock began to plant kisses upon Molly's neck and cheeks. She sighed in content. It was too surreal for her. Here she was with a man who two years ago would barely glance at her allowing him to kiss her. Sherlock was working down to her collar bone when he stopped.

"What's wrong?"

The shift came suddenly and the man Molly saw moments ago dissipated as if he had never existed. The icy cool demeanor Molly had grown accustom to returned. Those blue grey eyes were hardened and tinged with regret. Molly stepped closer to put a hand to his face but he just backed away unwilling to meet her eyes.

"This", was his answer."Molly", he paused choosing his next words carefully."You're engaged."

"So I am", she stated quietly frowning down at her finger. She twiddled the ring round for a long time in mid decision. Sherlock frowned. This burden wasn't fair to put on her, he wasn't fair to do this when she should be with Tom. Ordinary as he was, Molly could be very happy with him. Sherlock couldn't assure her that, so, regretfully he made as if to leave and brushed past her hunched form.

"Molly I think I should go."

"Stop." He paused."Stop this right now. You don't get to do this now."

Sherlock opened his mouth."But…."

"Sherlock please." Molly choked back a sob. Perfect little tears started trailing down her face. He was silent."Sherlock!", she yelled.

Sherlock whipped around. Molly gulped at his frosted appearance and dangerous eyes. He knew she was frightened, and that was good. The less he showed of himself the easier it would be to drive her away. Tom was a good man. He's a slightly dull one, but from his limited observations Sherlock knew that if they married Molly would most likely lead the charming life she so desperately craved. Sherlock would never be able to give her normalcy, and he cared for her too much to put her through the heart break when that realization would have finally hit her. This was Sherlock's best line of defense, but at the moment it was failing him. He gazed at her lost in his emotional overload. The silence was killing them both until Molly closed the gap. Her hand were dropped laying limply against her dress. She turned her head to look up at him.

"Sherlock", she whispered."Say something, I don't want to give up on you. I've stumbled around you ever since we met. I get nervous and I still do. I used to follow you anywhere", she laughed bitterly," but I can't be there anymore if you don't tell me to be. Say something please! Do you feel anything between us? Ours is a history of rejection and I don't know if I could handle it again. Because If you don't say anything to me right now, I will walk out and we will never see each other again. I won't come find you. Toms just asked me to move to Scotland with him and the only thing keeping me here is you. I am going back to those steps and turning around. I will wait for you until I count to 10 and if your hand does not find mine then I'll know this was never real."

Molly walked past him to where her heels lay abandoned on the pavement. Reluctantly she slipped her aching feet into the soles and carefully made her way to the stairs. In that moment when she turned to him for their possible last glimpses of the other no two souls were bound as tightly. The thought that she and Sherlock were attached to the same rubber band that had been stretched and stretched eventually losing it's grip and bringing them together kept her hope alive. Molly could almost see the strain as the band tried to finish its snap.

Unbeknownst to both of them a slow song drifted out into the darkness. In their silence it's sad melody accompanied by even more tragic lyrics added to the heavy air. One, Molly recited mentally as the intro music filled her ears. She heard no movement on the grass.

Two.

"Say something, I'm giving up on you.  
I'll be the one, if you want me to.  
Anywhere I would've followed you.  
Say something, I'm giving up on you."

Sherlock quickly deduced the speed of Molly's counts and worked out that he had roughly two minutes to choose. With her back to him Molly looked almost like a statue. From this angle he saw strength but he knew on the other side she was shattering.

Three.

"And I am feeling so small.  
It was over my head  
I know nothing at all."

He should leave now, but he couldn't. Sherlock took a small step forward against his brain's better judgement. Currently his heart was fighting with it for control, and he had no idea which would win out.

Four.

"And I will stumble and fall.  
I'm still learning to love  
Just starting to crawl."

The distance was closing and Sherlock couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth flow through him. It soon died though as he realized just how clueless he was to love. Love puzzled him and Sherlock didn't know what to do. Was it right to subject Molly to his inexperienced persona? Even with this nagging doubt he lurched another step forward.

Five.

"Say something, I'm giving up on you.  
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.  
Anywhere I would've followed you.  
Say something, I'm giving up on you."

Molly still felt nothing but air. She didn't dare turn around just in case he really was coming and stood just behind. Molly thought she heard a soft noise but couldn't be sure for all she knew it was her love sick mind playing tricks on her.

Six.

"And I will swallow my pride.  
You're the one that I love  
And I'm saying goodbye."

By the time the verse finished Sherlock had his hand hovering over hers. He saw her back tense as if she could feel him. Logic and love threw their final blows at each other. The dust settled and Sherlock's choice was was it.

Seven.

"Say something, I'm giving up on you.  
And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.  
And anywhere I would've followed you. Oh-oh-oh-oh  
Say something, I'm giving up on you."

She could almost feel him. Almost.

Eight.

"Say something, I'm giving up on you."

Hear radiated off of the two bodies in an act of nostalgia, and then….

Nine.

"Say something…"

Ten.

Her hand was cold.


End file.
